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one of the best things about living with a family is discovering unexpected food in the fridge. it just occured to me that living alone means everytime yu open the fridge, what yu see is exactly how yu last left it, just in a more advanced stage of decomposition, which is well, rather depressing. being greeted by a well-stocked fridge makes yu aware that your welfare is being accounted for by someone who cares, and that is reassuring in its own way. soya milk because yu prefer it to fresh milk, African sea coconut syrup to soothe your persistent cough, mushroom cheese cubes for when yu crave something salty. not to mention finding little surprises here and there make yu just a tad more willing to face an otherwise dreary day ahead. the contents of a fridge could be the sweetest things in the world, just that nobody bothers to take notice.